Baby Sitters
by Sherlocks Blue Scarf
Summary: A seventeen year old Mycroft is looking after his ten year old brother and friend for the weekend with the help of a very close friend: Greg Lestrade. Disclaimer: Mycroft Holmes and all associated characters are not mine sadly.
1. Chapter 1

**Just an idea that was going around my head. If a good amount of people like it I will probably write a few more chapters.**

* * *

Chapter One

It was a cloudy Wednesday afternoon and in a lovely house in an even more stunning English town, sitting in his room listening to Classic FM was a teenager. The room was large but sparsely furnished, there was an upright piano standing in one corner next to a bookcase – packed with books on politics, philosophy and geography, not your normal teenage boys choice of reading - and a wardrobe and in the other corner sitting at a desk was said teenager. Mycroft was sitting writing his English essay when his Mother came in.

"Son, I need a favour at the weekend," she said.

He looked up from his essay to regard her and said, "Yes Mother, what is it?"

"I need you to look after your brother this weekend, John will be round too. I am going to Edinburgh with his Mother."

"Do I have to?"

"Well yes, I would appreciate the help."

Mycroft's heart sank, he hated having to look after his brother on his own. "Okay," he said half heartedly.

"I will make it worth your while."

"How much?"

"I guess I can give you fifty quid for your trouble," she said with a smile.

Even though Mycroft wasn't particularly bothered about the money he pushed for more; there was a few books he wanted to get, "One hundred pounds and you have yourself a deal," he retorted.

His Mum laughed, "Seventy five and you don't have to do the dishes for a fortnight. Do we have a deal now?" she held her hand out.

"I guess so," and he shook her hand. Mycroft knew how to manipulate people, he never actually wanted any money, - he could already afford to get the books - let alone one hundred pounds but because he knew his Mum needed this holiday, he knew that he could get something out of her and the promise of seventy-five pounds did make the prospect of looking after a troublesome eleven year old and his friend much more attractive. Mycroft had never actually looked after Sherlock for more than a few hours at a time, and even then he dreaded it so the idea of looking after them for a whole weekend very daunting.

"We will be leaving tomorrow afternoon, so you will have to pick them up."

"Okay I have a free period last so I will duck out and get them then."

* * *

It was break and Mycroft was talking to Greg in the very quiet senior students common room.

"So I won't be able to go to the cinema tonight. My Mum is giving me seventy-five pounds to look after Sherlock and John for the weekend." he explained.

"What a shame, I was really looking forward to going out as well, we haven't done anything together in a while," Greg said entwining their fingers.

The bell rang and Greg quickly stood up pulling Mycroft to his feet, he looked around to make sure no one was looking, he put his hands into Mycroft's blazer pockets and kissed him on the cheek.

"See you later," he shouted and ran off to his next class.

Mycroft stood frozen on the spot for a moment. He had been going out with Greg for just short of six months but he still got flustered when Greg kissed him. He also felt like the luckiest guy in the world. He knew how many girls fancied Greg but because neither of them had come out to anyone yet no one was aware that he was gay and Greg still got asked out a lot by many of the girls in the year, there was no danger of that happening to Mycroft though, he was never really the type girls in his year went for, he was the quiet smart type where Greg was the more sporty type - though still smart - and he was incredibly attractive. He was walking down the hall to his French class thinking about the day Greg first talked to him, he never expected it, they had never even properly met before. Mycroft perceived Greg the popular sporty guy in the year below that everyone – teachers and pupils alike – adored, and Mycroft was the academic that had very few friends – in fact, he opened up to few people in the first place – that was what confused Mycroft when the popular guy invited him to the cinema. The relationship between the two was very unlikely.

* * *

It was May and it was the last day of school for people who were off on study leave. Mycroft took some of his old text books out his locker and put them in to his bag then he walked to the common room. He sat down at one of the desks, the room was empty, everyone was outside basking in the beautiful sun light. He opened up his maths text book and started working on some logarithms, Mycroft enjoyed maths and he worked his way through the problems in no time. He put the book back in his bag and took out his French essay to memorise for the exam. He had been sitting reading it to himself for ten minutes or so when he heard a chair shifting. He looked up to see someone staring at him - someone with spiky brown hair and grey/blue eyes – he recognised the face – the owner had been going to this school for at least three years now - but he couldn't put a name to it so he just smiled and said, "Afternoon."

"Hello," the guy said back, he walked up to Mycroft's desk – he was tall, almost as tall as Mycroft himself and Mycroft was one of the tallest boys in his year, in fact he was taller that a good chunk of the teachers - and sat down in the chair next to him. "I am Greg Lestrade, I am in the year below you."

"Mycroft Holmes." he replied and held his hand out to shake – he recognised the name from the football notice boards that he passed several times a day.

"Do you want to go to town or somewhere with me one day?" Greg asked.

Mycroft laughed and looked at Greg who had a face of complete sincerity, he stopped laughing, "Your not joking," he said.

"Why would I be joking?"

"Lets just say I am not the usual companion for an outing, of any sort," he said, smiling to himself. "Anyway, that would be very nice."

"Okay, so do you want to go tonight?" Greg asked.

Mycroft hated the cinema, "Okay I guess that would be good," but Greg intrigued him so he accepted.

"Like after school, I will meet you at the train station at four o'clock," Greg suggested.

"Quick question though, why, out of all your friends, and many other people in your year - that I imagine would love to get to know you - would you choose me as a companion to the cinema?"

"No reason, you just seem like a particularly nice person and I would like to get to know you."

Mycroft didn't pay much attention to the teachers lecture about exams that afternoon, he was thinking about why someone whom he had only just met would want to do something with him, he couldn't think of any reasons so he gave up and looked at his watch, it was coming up to half three. He heard the last of his teachers speech "So if you stay calm and focus you will do very well. Good luck everyone."

Mycroft stood up quickly, flung his bag over his shoulder and ran out the room. He ran down the road to his house and up to his room. He dropped his bag on the ground and got changed. He rummaged around his desk for his wallet and looked at his watch, it said quarter to four. The train station was five minutes down the road so he had time to brush his teeth and hair. When he looked presentable he went to leave the house. Sherlock was blocking the door.

"Mycroft, what are you in a hurry for?" he asked.

"I am going to the cinema with someone, now leave me alone." he pushed Sherlock out the way and got out the door, Sherlock followed him down the street.

"Why?"

"Because the person asked me if I wanted to go." he answered.

"Who?"

"Someone called Greg. We have really only just met."

"Then why are you going to the cinema?"

"Because he seems nice and I would like to get to know him."

They were approaching the train station and Mycroft could see Greg walking towards them looking slightly confused. "Mycroft, aren't you a bit over dressed to be going to the cinema?" Sherlock asked when Greg was in hearing distance.

"Shut up Sherlock, piss off back home, I think John will be lonely in the house on his own."

"You do know he hates the cinema?" Sherlock told Greg.

"I actually didn't know that," Greg said smiling at Mycroft.

"Just go home Sherlock please."

Sherlock huffed and left.

"Sorry about that," Mycroft said.

"If you hate the cinema then why are you coming with me?"

"No reason, I just didn't have anything to do today," he said.

"We don't actually have to go to the cinema, I guess I just want to get to know you better."

"I am perfectly fine going to the cinema."

"Okay then. What do you want to see?"

"I don't know. What ever you want to see I guess," Mycroft said.

They finally agreed to see an action film, that neither of them were too keen on seeing. They walked up to the cinema laughing about nothing in particular and they realised that they had a lot in common. Mycroft really liked Greg and even though they had only first talked to each other a few hours ago it was the first time he felt truly comfortable around someone who wasn't his Mother or Sherlock.

When they got to the cinema they bought their tickets and went to the screen. The lights were already low and the film was just about to start. About an hour into the film Mycroft felt something on his hand. He looked down and realised that Greg's hand was on top of his own. He looked over at Greg and smiled, Greg suddenly pulled his hand back looking slightly embarrassed, he didn't look at Mycroft but he did smile.

When the film was over Mycroft was relieved. He walked out and waited for Greg at the entrance.

"That film was awful," Greg said.

"Yes, it really was," Mycroft didn't pay much attention to the second half of it, he was more interested in what had happened with the hand contact.

"What happened, I am sorry, I didn't mean it."

"It doesn't matter, I have forgotten about it already."

"Okay then, do you want to get coffee?"

They walked away from the cinema talking about their summer holidays. When they got to the coffee shop Greg suddenly started getting quieter. Mycroft was confused but went up to order their drinks – a black coffee no sugar for Greg and a chai tea latte for himself. He went back to the table.

"How can you drink that stuff?" he asked as the waitress brought the drinks over.

"What? Black coffee? It is nice, I really like it, how can you drink chai tea, it tastes like crap."

"No it doesn't, it reminds me of Christmas," he murmured. "Of happier times."

The waitress came over and gave them their drinks.

"Greg, are you okay, you have been quiet since we sat down."

"I am fine," he said.

"Are you sure," Greg nodded. "Okay then, tell me about yourself."

"What do you want to know?"

"Well I know you are in the football team, but tell me about the person under the football strip," he asked.

"I hate football," Greg answered. "I hate it so much, I don't even now why I play it," Greg looked at Mycroft. "Wait, I do know why I play it," he said bitterly, "To get my dad off my back. If I play football he won't ask me about what I really want to do with my life and we won't have arguments."

"Why can't you tell him?" Mycroft asked, curiosity flowing over him.

"I did tell him I wanted to quit football one time – ages ago – he was furious. He talked about how I shouldn't give it up, how it was an amazing talent and most kids would sell their souls to be able to play like that."

"What do you really want to be?"

"I want to join the police force." Greg said, smiling. "Enough about me, tell me what is under that hard exterior of yours."

"I have a little brother – Sherlock – you met him earlier."

"Yes, he sounds charming." Greg said, and laughed.

"That was his good side you saw earlier, I don't even want to begin to describe what his bad side is like." he explained. "I want to work for the British Government when I leave school. In fact, I have been offered an intern ship over the holidays."

"That is really cool, doing what?" Greg asked.

"I'm not quite sure yet, but it will probably be fetching coffee and printing stuff out," he said, and laughed, Greg laughed too, but suddenly cut off after a few seconds. "What is wrong?"

"I am just thinking about how I am going to word this question so it is clear and you don't get freaked out," he said thoughtfully.

"Just go ahead and ask, how hard can it be?" he said.

"I was wondering if you wanted to go out again."

"Why did you have trouble asking that? I don't mind going out again, as long as we don't have to go to the cinema again."

"I was meaning on a date."

Mycroft stared at Greg in disbelief, "I'm not actually gay."

"Neither am I but I really like you."

"This is a surprise," he said, still slightly shocked.

"It is a surprise for me too, I never thought I would have the balls to ask you," Greg said, laughing.

"Well, I will accept, it would be nice."

"It was actually my motivation on asking you to the cinema in the first place," Greg explained to Mycroft.

"You know you could have just been straight with me, I really do like you too," he laughed.

"I thought it would be better getting to know you first, I didn't really want to ask you out if it felt like you didn't like me.

They spent an awkward ten minutes drinking coffee and talking about school, both of them avoided where their first date would take place until Greg was about to leave.

"I need to go now. Here's my phone and I can get your number."

Mycroft took the phone and started typing in the digits. "What do you want to do on Saturday?" he asked.

"I don't know, we could go to the park."

"That would be good."

"Well, text me if you have to change the plans."

Mycroft stood up and Greg leaned in for a hug. He was startled but he returned the hug however awkward it was. Greg left Mycroft alone in the coffee shop smiling like a cat who had learned how to work a tin opener.

* * *

Mycroft was surprised when Greg asked him out and he was still surprised to this day why he chose to ask him out in the first place. Greg could have had the pick of anyone – boys or girls - in either of their years yet he chose Mycroft. No one knew that they were a couple yet and they both planned to keep it that way for at least a month or two more. Neither of them were ready to come out to anyone yet and Mycroft wanted to tell Sherlock before anyone else.

Mycroft got to his French class five minutes late.

"It isn't like you to be late Mr Holmes."

"I'm sorry Sir, I lost track of time."

"That is okay, now go and sit down."

He was walking to his desk when he heard someone mutter "He was probably too busy shagging his boyfriend to come to class."

He was now concerned that someone had seen him and Greg together, but they were both so careful, it was probably a jibe from someone who didn't like him – and there certainly were a lot of people who didn't like him. He sat down at the table and took his text-book and jotters out. He also took his phone out quickly and texted Greg _'Je t'aime - MH'_ Greg didn't take French but he was aware that this was a positive statement. Mycroft put his phone back in to his pocket, he smiled and looked up, he knew the text was cheesy but it was a tradition. He sent Greg the same text every time he was in French since he started back at school, usually Greg didn't respond to this but Mycroft knew he had received them because of the indicator on his phone. This time was different though, this time Greg replied _'What does that mean? - GL'_ Neither of them had said that they loved each other to their face and Mycroft didn't want to do anything that would jeopardise their relationship.

'_I'll tell you later. - MH'_

_'Tell me now. - GL'_

_'Patience is a virtue my dear friend. - MH'_

_'Whatever, see you at lunch. GL'_

_'I promise I will tell you. - MH'_

The rest of French went by without any excitement and Mycroft left at the bell to go to German. Mycroft was the only person who picked German this year so the class was more like one-on-one tutoring with Miss Dean. Most of the boys were incredibly jealous of him because she was a young and attractive woman but her looks were wasted on him, he already had his 'one'.

"Mycroft, wie geht es Ihnen heute?" They started with their usual greeting to each other in German.

"Ich bin sehr gut danke. Selbst?" Mycroft answered back, again in German.

"Mycroft, I know about you and Greg."

"What?" Mycroft said looking at Miss Dean with a shocked expression.

"I know you are going out with him," she said.

"And how is that your business?" he retorted.

"It isn't but I want you to know you can come to me if you need help or someone to talk to."

"That is very kind of you. Thanks," he said realising that he sounded slightly rude before.

"Now on to the German."

They had been practising conversational work when the bell rang.

"I need to go now. Bye."

"Bye Mycroft, remember what I said."

"I will," and he ran out the class room. He put his extra books in the locker and walked up to the common room thinking about how he was going to explain the text messages. Someone ran up behind him and covered his eyes.

"Shit, who's there?" he asked knowing fine well that it was Greg. "Miss Dean knows."

"What does she know?"

"She knows about us."

"That explains why she has been acting awkward around me lately. Now what did that text mean and why do you never send me one in German?"

"You would understand it if it was in German and I know you refuse to use translation software," Mycroft said.

They were walking hand in hand toward the common room.

"Okay I will tell you but you have to promise not to get freaked out and run away."

"Okay," Greg said confused. "Go ahead."

"I- well I," he stuttered. "Greg, I love you," he said quickly and shut his eyes. It felt like an eternity before anything happened and when something did happen it was only a shift of the couch.

"What?" Greg said.

"Greg, I love you," he said, his eyes still closed. The moment Mycroft opened his eyes Greg crashed their lips together in a passionate kiss. They sat for a long moment of utter bliss.

"You don't know how long I have wanted to say that Greg."

"Mycroft, I love you too," Greg said.

They sat talking for the whole of lunch, and when it was safe they shared the odd kiss. The bell rang, both of them seemed sad to be leaving each other, though - and Mycroft was unaware of this - Greg had planned to come round that evening to keep him company.

* * *

The bell rang for the end of fifth period and Mycroft went to his locker. He took out the necessary books he needed to study with that night and walked out of the school. As he was walking up the road to Sherlock's school he was smiling. He had never expected to be this happy with anyone before but that was until he had met Greg. Mycroft and Greg worked together perfectly, they were like two perfectly fitted cogs. Mycroft arrived at Sherlock's school, collected the boys and as they were walking up the road punching each other he realised that he was out of his depth looking after them, he wished that Greg could come round but he had football that evening. Mycroft unlocked the door and the two ten-year old's ran inside.

Greg was walking down the street with a pizza in one hand, he was going to see Mycroft. This was a surprise for Mycroft because usually at this time he was at football practice but he had told his team mates he was ill and his mum that he was going out to meet someone because practice was cancelled. As he walked down the street he started to get nervous, he had never been inside Mycroft's house, neither of them had seen the others house before. He approached the door and knocked once, he heard a banging sound and someone shouting "Wait a moment", then the door opened up to Mycroft's brother and another boy around the same age.

"Umm, hello, is Mycroft in?" he asked.

"Yes, I shall go and get him."

"Thanks."

"Mycroft!" and the two boys ran up the stairs shouting. Greg walked in and closed the door. He stood in the large hall and suddenly felt intimidated. He knew that the Holmes' family must have had a fair amount of money because they could afford to send Mycroft to a private school but he hadn't realised how rich the family actually were.

"Greg, what are you doing here?" he saw Mycroft standing at the stairs looking as gorgeous as ever.

"I though I could keep you company or help you baby sit or something."

"I would love that you know," and he walked forward to give Greg a hug.

"I have pizza too."

"Even better, I really am a lucky guy," Mycroft laughed.

"Where should I put it?"

"Here, come on, I'll put it in the kitchen."Mycroft grabbed him by the hand and pulled him through the large house in to the equally large kitchen. "Do you want a drink?"

"Yes please, a coffee if you have any normal stuff."

"What a shame, we only have chai tea." Mycroft laughed.

"Well thank god I'm not thirsty any more."

"Please just try the tea," Mycroft had been trying to get Greg to drink chai tea since their first date but hadn't been successful. "I'll make it worth your while."

"Mycroft, you do know I'm not fussed about sleeping with you, I would much rather enjoy our time together," Mycroft and Greg were probably soul mates, they were happy with their relationship the way it was and neither of them were too bothered about furthering it.

"I don't mean like that. I was going to make a cake, but if you don't have any tea you won't get any of it and it is a bloody amazing cake."

"No cake will ever make me give in to chai tea Mycroft." he wrapped his arms around Mycroft's waist and kissed him.

"Well I will make it anyway and you will regret it."

"You and your cake," Greg laughed and Mycroft hit him over the head with a news paper. Greg wrestled him to the floor and straddled his waist and kissed him just as Sherlock and John walked in to the kitchen.

"What are you doing Mycroft?" he asked. "And why is Greg kissing you?"

Greg quickly scrambled to his feet and helped Mycroft up.

"Sherlock, Greg and me are going out with each other."

"What, like boyfriends?"

"I guess so."

"Okay, can you get me a couple of cups down from the cupboard?"

"I shall Sherlock," Sherlock and his friend got a drink and left the room.

"Was that it?"

"What?"

"No sarcastic comments or anything?" he asked.

"I guess not, Sherlock obviously couldn't care less whether we are gay or not, but then again he is only ten."

"Lucky, if my parents found out I would be done for."

"Why?" Mycroft asked looking concerned.

"They are devout Christians, I don't think they would cope well with a gay son."

They took the pizza in to the front room and talked for a while about their families, Greg talked a lot about his parents. He didn't have a very good relationship with his parents because he didn't go to church and he though that if they found out he was gay it would tip them over the edge and would be thrown out the house with nowhere to go.

It was around nine o'clock, Sherlock and John were in bed and Greg and Mycroft were still talking.

"Well Mycroft, I think I need to go home now."

"Do you want me to walk you back?" Mycroft asked.

"That would be very nice. Thank you, I only live ten minutes away."

Mycroft grabbed Greg's hand and they walked down the road together. When they reached his house Greg kissed Mycroft and turned to the door, his dad was standing on the step looking furious.

"Greg, I want to speak to you now!" he shouted.


	2. Chapter 2

**This hasn't been edited, I should probably do it tomorrow. This will also be incredibly inconsistent in updating, because I am going back to school next week.**

**Here it is, chapter two, I hope you enjoy it.**

* * *

Chapter Two

"Oh fuck. Quickly go home now before you get pulled in to this too," he whispered to Mycroft. He turned round and took the walk of shame – well that is what his father would have called it – up the path to the front door.

His father pushed him inside and shouted out to Mycroft, "You are in big trouble young man," Mycroft laughed.

"Oh shit," Greg whispered.

His father stormed out towards Mycroft, grabbed him but the arm and pulled him inside as well. "Do you find this funny?"

"Do I find what funny?" Mycroft asked.

"Corrupting my sons innocence," his father shouted, Greg cringed.

"Well, I wasn't aware that I was corrupting anyone's innocence. Now if I can go, I have my ten-year old brother and his friend in my house alone and I don't think the police would be happy to hear that you prevented me from getting back to them if anything happened."

"Are you threatening me?"

"Not as such. I'm only warning you that I will take immediate action if anything happens to my ten-year old brother and his friend in the time from now until I get home."

"You cheeky bastard," the man said.

"Don't talk to me like that please," Mycroft requested.

"Mycroft, just go now, before this gets messy."

"Okay Greg."

Greg's father let go of his arm.

"See you at school tomorrow." he leant forward, hugged Greg and kissed him on the cheek.

"The hell you will," Mr Lestrade said.

"Bye Mycroft," he said.

* * *

The door slammed closed. Mycroft walked home worrying about Greg. He couldn't help but feel that it was a bad idea giving him that goodbye kiss. He felt like it was probably one of the stupidest things he could have done in that situation, he had considered just leaving but he wanted Greg to know that whatever happened he was there for him. He pulled his phone out his pocket and sent Greg a text_ 'I love you Gregory Lestrade. - MH'._ He pulled his keys out and unlocked the door, he turned the light on and he saw Sherlock and John sitting at the foot of the stairs.

"What is wrong Mycroft?"

"Nothing Sherlock, now back up to bed, the both of you," he sighed and went to the kitchen to make himself a chai latte – that usually always put his mind to rest, but not tonight. He heard his phone buzz, he sprinted to it and opened the text_ 'I love you too Mycroft. - GL' _ he smiled, took his tea and walked up to his bedroom to study.

* * *

"Who was that?"

"That was my friend Mycroft."

"And what were you doing out there?"

"Kissing him."

"Why?"

"You are a little slow today father." he said realising that it was a dangerous thing to do.

"I don't fucking care, now why were you kissing him?"

"I would have thought that was obvious. Because father he is my boyfriend."

"What?"

"Do you really need me to repeat myself," he knew it was a dangerous move but he knew he was screwed either way. "I am gay."

"Are we not good parents or are you just a messed up child?" his father said, sounding genuinely upset, Greg stared at him in pity. "We won't be seen as respectable members of the community now because of you."

"I don't care." Greg said.

"You should care. Now I don't want you to see this Mycroft again."

"Fucking hell, like that is going to happen, I love him and he understands me a hell lot more than you ever will."

"Mind your language. I am going to have to send you to boarding school to help you get over this phase."

"It isn't a fucking phase," he shouted. "And I'm not going to boarding school."

"Either you are going to boarding school voluntarily or I will drag you there myself."

"Well then I guess you will need to drag me because there is no way on Gods earth that you are going to get me to go myself," he heard his mobile phone text alert tone sound and he took his phone out to read it _'I love you Gregory Lestrade. - MH'_ he smiled and replied, _ 'I love you too Mycroft. - GL' ._

"Don't ignore me while I am talking to you, who was that?" his father demanded.

"Who do you think?" Greg replied.

"Go to your room now, and pack, you will be in boarding school by the Monday."

"Whatever, at least boarding school will be hell of a lot better than staying here with your ignorance and homophobic tendencies," he shouted.

"Don't you speak to me like that," his father shouted back.

"Why shouldn't I, you have shouted at me since I got back," Greg said. "You are a terrible father, you don't talk to me, you hardly even know me."

"I do so know you."

"Prove it, what do I want to be when I leave school. If you know me you _should_ know this, I have researched the different fields for months."

"A footballer isn't it?"

Greg stared at his father in disbelief, they had only talked about Greg wanting to join the police force a week ago. "For fuck sake, I hate football," he said quietly. "I want to join the police force, I want to be a police detective, we talked about it last week, or maybe you weren't listening."

Greg's father looked down at him and said, "Go to your room now."

"Fuck off." he muttered and he suddenly felt, on the side if his face, a fist. "You really think you can beat the gay out of me?" he laughed, "Well good luck with that," he said clutching the side of his face in pain.

Greg walked out the door and saw his mother standing at the stairs crying. "Yeah Mum, thanks so much for your support in there, I really appreciated it," he said sarcastically.

"Son, I am really sorry."

"No you're not, just look at you, you are disgusted in me," he said. "You have a gay son, how are all the other ignorant house wives at church going to treat you now?"

"I am sorry."

"I imagine they are going to exclude you from all the coffee mornings now if they hear about it, and I assure you, they will probably hear about it one way or another," he pushed past her and went to his room. He grabbed an overnight bag and started throwing clothes in to it. He rummaged around his drawers for his wallet and emptied his money-box in to it. He had, in cash, just over thirty pounds and in his bank forty. He would need to empty it in the morning. He pulled his school bag out from under a chair and flung it over his shoulder. He pulled the overnight bag off his bed and stormed out of his room.

"I'll be back tomorrow to get the rest of my stuff," he shouted.

"Where are you going?" his mum said, still crying.

"Where do you think?" he said glaring at her.

"You are not going anywhere," his father shouted.

"The hell I'm not."

"Please don't go, I will talk to your father."

"You come right back here Gregory," shouted John Lestrade.

"Just leave him John," his mother was still crying. "I will talk to him Greg."

"Talk to him if you want, but I am afraid I don't have a father now. I am going whether you like it or not," Greg stormed down the path and out on to the street, he felt tears stinging his eyes but he blinked them away – he didn't want anyone to see him crying - he wasn't sure where to go, his best bet was to Mycroft's house but he need to do some stuff first. He walked down the street to an off licence and with his fake ID - his friend got for his sixteenth birthday - bought a bottle of cheap cider - he didn't know whether to drink it or not, he hated cider but he needed the buzz of being drunk to dull the pain - and a packet of cigarettes. Greg didn't drink much and he had certainly never smoked before but he felt like the situation called for a little recklessness. He took a cigarette out of the packet and lit it, he took a drag on it and spluttered, it was horrible but he had bought a packet of twenty and they certainly weren't going to be put to waste. He walked down the road to Mycroft's house, carefully trying to avoid all his friends by the time he got there he was on his third cigarette - he had taken a detour hoping to dodge his team mates leaving the park and he arrived outside the large house at ten o'clock.7

* * *

Mycroft was sitting at his desk trying to study but he was too preoccupied with his phone, waiting for it to ring. He went to the bath room to brush his teeth when he heard someone at the door. He went down to answer it and was greeted with a very upset looking Greg who crashed in to him in a hug.

"Greg, what is wrong?" he asked, unsure whether there was anything more suitable to say.

"Can I stay here with you for a bit?"

"However long you need Greg," he said. "Now, tell me what happened and why you have a cigarette in your hand."

"I'm sorry about that, I just needed it, I felt like being reckless. I told my father about us."

Mycroft looked at his boyfriend. Greg was about to break down in tears again but Mycroft pulled him in to the living room and put him on the couch.

"What happened to your face?"

"He punched me."

"You need to call the police Greg."

"I really don't want to waste their time, he isn't worth it, and anyway, it isn't that bad."

"Greg, it is," he said, reaching out to touch the purple bruise forming on the side if his face, Greg flinched, "It obviously hurts. Come on, I will take you up to the guest room and you can have a shower."

"If it isn't too much to ask would it be okay if I slept in your room with you?" Greg asked. "I mean, I can sleep on the floor, I just don't want to be alone tonight."

"If that is what you need then that is what I will give you," Mycroft said. "Now a question about the smoking."

"I don't know whether I will stop or not, yes this may only be my first time but I think I need an outlet. I don't want to get angry and hit someone."

"Okay then but please don't make too much of a habit of it," Mycroft asked.

"Can I go up and have a shower now?"

"Of course."

Mycroft showed Greg up to the bathroom and gave him a towel. He went in to his room and did a quick tidy up. He cleared up a pile of books in the middle of the floor and made his bed. It was a relatively large single bed, but big enough for two people to sleep in it if they were sleeping head to toe.

Ten minutes later Greg walked in to the room and stopped suddenly.

* * *

Greg walked in to Mycroft's room. It was incredibly tidy and there was a piano in the corner.

"I didn't know you played the piano," he said.

"Every day is a school day Greg," Mycroft said and smiled. "Come over here."

Greg walked over to the bed and Mycroft pulled him down.

"You can stay here as long as you want. I still need to explain to my mum about you though, but she should be alright about it I hope. Though she will probably insist you sleep in the guest room," Mycroft explained, "and that you should speak to your father."

"No Mycroft, please don't make me do that," Greg begged.

"I won't make you do anything you don't want to. My mum can speak to him if you'd prefer, or we could speak to Miss Dean."

"I really don't want to tell Miss Dean but I guess we probably need to tell your mum."

"Oh shit," groaned Mycroft

"What?"

"Exams. How is this going to affect them for you."

"I promise you, it won't affect them at all. The impact would be larger and much more negative if I stayed at home anyway."

"Are you sure. I will do everything in my power to make sure you do well Greg." he said, "I couldn't live with myself if this situation caused you to do badly in your exams."

"If I need help I promise I will come to you if that is alright."

"That is more than alright," Mycroft said, smiling. "Are you tired?"

"A little bit, Mycroft."

"Come over here," Greg moved up next to Mycroft at the top of the bed. Mycroft put his arms around Greg's shoulders and kissed him on the forehead. He turned round to flip the light off. Greg quickly drifted off into a deep sleep but Mycroft lay awake thinking, for hours.

* * *

An alarm went off in the distance, Greg looked around, he didn't know where he was, or how he had gotten there, someone had their arm around his shoulders. He reached up to his face to rub the sleep away from his eyes, he felt a horrible pain surge through his cheek and he yelped in pain. The arm around him moved and he heard a voice say, "Did you have a nice sleep?"

The voice brought back the events from the night before – the argument with his father, the punch in the face and the walking to Mycroft's house, smoking – and the bitter taste of stale cigarette smoke. "Mycroft," he said, "what time is it?"

"Half six," Mycroft said, smiling sheepishly.

"Half six, you wake up at half six in the morning?" he said, shocked that anyone could manage to get up before eight on a school day in the first place.

"Yes, it gives me time to relax before the day ahead and I practice piano in the mornings as well."

"Are you going to practice now?" Greg asked, hopeful that he would be able to see Mycroft take part in one of his well guarded talents.

"I wasn't planning to, I didn't want to interrupt your sleep," Greg's hope slipped away. "Unless you want me to play?"

"Oh would you?" he asked. "I would really like that."

"Okay Greg, what should I play?"

"I don't know, whatever you like," Greg said, only because he didn't know anything about classical music.

Mycroft walked over to his piano and started playing a tune that Greg was sure he had heard before, it was beautiful and Mycroft's fingers darted across the keys with incredible grace, and accuracy. Greg sat on the bed listening and when Mycroft finished he sat trying to figure out where he had heard it before.

"You have heard it before, it is Chopin, Nocturne In E-Flat Major, Op.9 No.2, it is in that song United States of Eurasia, the one you showed me on our first date," Mycroft smiled at him.

"That was beautiful, thank you," he stood up, walked over to Mycroft and hugged him. "I could not wish for a more amazing boyfriend."

"I am the lucky one Greg, you are the amazing one."

"No you are amazing."

Mycroft laughed, "Lets just settle this by saying we are both amazing."

"Yes, lets."

"Do you want to go back to sleep or do you want breakfast," Mycroft asked. "I usually go for a run afterwards."

"Really? Well I guess you learn something new everyday," Greg said, smiling. "I will go for a run with you if that is alright."

"Okay, well breakfast first, what do you want?"

"Just toast please."

"Can I tempt you to a chai tea latte?"

Greg laughed, "I knew you were going to do that, no thanks."

They sat at the table eating toast and chatting about school. "Do you want to go now?" Mycroft asked when they had finished their toast.

They set off for a run, it was cool outside but very quiet and peaceful. By the time they got back to the house Greg wasn't so tired, they went up to Mycroft's room and got changed for school.

"Do you want to walk there together or apart?" Mycroft asked.

"Whatever suits you," Greg said, then suggested, "why don't we walk together until we are near by and I will wait behind for five minutes?"

"Okay," Mycroft said, he turned round and left the room, presumably to make sure Sherlock and John were awake. Greg grabbed his bag and flung it over his shoulder just as Mycroft entered the room again.

"The boys are ready to go, are you?" Mycroft asked.

Greg nodded and followed Mycroft downstairs. They walked to school in silence, holding hands, until they saw other students. They ducked down a side street to say goodbye. "See you later Greg," Mycroft said, kissing him.

"I am going to have to go home later to get some stuff I need, is it okay if you come with me?"

"If you really want me there then of course."

Greg kissed Mycroft then left the safety of the side street, feeling very sad.

* * *

Mycroft took Greg's hand and squeezed it. They walked up the path together, Greg unlocked the door.

"My parents won't be in yet," Greg said, quickly adding, "I hope."

Mycroft smiled but didn't know what to say. They walked into the house. Greg ran upstairs and Mycroft stood in the hall waiting. He had been standing shouting up the stairs to Greg for about five minutes when he saw someone walking up the driveway, he froze.

"Shit," he whispered.

"Mycroft, when will your mother be back? I don't want to outstay my welcome," he shouted.

The person was nearing the door when Mycroft realised that it was Greg's father, "Greg, your father is coming up the pathway."

"Shit, stay there, I am coming down."

The door opened and Mr Lestrade stopped, "What the fuck are you doing in my house?"

"I, I am with Greg," Mycroft stuttered. However he hated to admit it Mr Lestrade scared the living daylights out of him. Mr Lestrade was tall with dark hair, he looked nothing like his son, while Greg was also tall he was quite slim and muscular, his father on the other hand was built like a brick wall.

"Father, I am just getting some stuff then I will be out, I promise, and you will never have to see me again," Greg said.

"Is that what you think I want Greg?" his father said.

"Well, yes, I guess it is."

"It isn't son, I don't want you to leave," Mycroft felt awkward standing in the hall while the Lestrades – father and son – were having a heart-to-heart.

"Well, I can't live in a house where my own father doesn't know me, let's try this again, what do I want to be when I leave school."

"A fire fighter?"

Mycroft sighed, "He wants to be a police detective, sir. Greg, I will take some of your stuff back to my house and you can have a proper talk with your father."

"Thanks," Greg jumped down the stairs and hugged Mycroft.

Mycroft left the house, leaving Greg and his father arguing.

* * *

"Greg, son, we can sort this out, please just move back in."

"How can we sort it out, can you not remember last night," Greg shouted, "You hate it, you hate the fact that you brought up a gay son."

"I can't pretend to not hate it, but I am sure we can sort it out, you will get over it."

"That is the problem though, you think I can get over it and I know I can't," Greg was beginning to get incredibly frustrated.

"Fine, do what you want, but when you walk out that door, don't expect to be able to walk back in again."

"Don't worry, no danger of that ever happening."

Greg grabbed his bag and opened the door, "Goodbye John," he slammed the door shut and cursed at himself for doing what he had just done. His mother was walking up the driveway, Greg ignored her and barged past her.

"Greg, what happened," she demanded.

"Ask John."


End file.
